


Title: Leading to Love

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elves, Multi-Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta: Faramirhaldir—Thank you so much!  Any remaining errors are mine.<br/>Type: FPS<br/>Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor or Erestor/Glorfindel if you prefer!<br/>Rating: PG<br/>Warnings:  Slash<br/>Summary:  Everyday occurrences, over time, can lead to love.<br/>Disclaimer: The characters and places of Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion are the sole property of Prof. Tolkien and his estate.  This is written for the enjoyment and not profit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *This story is actually made up of several short stand alone segments, each having been written for someone who gave me an activity prompt. Hope they enjoy their segment as much as I enjoyed writing them.  
> *Clarification of reborn vs. remade: In my corner of Tolkien fandom, Glorfindel was remade (his fëa was put in an identical, fully grown body, aware of his former life). To me, reborn implies the fëa is placed in a new infant body—literally reborn.  
> *As always, the muses and I thrive on feedback, so please leave some
> 
> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at HASA, which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the HASA collection profile.

He spent the trip from the Havens to Lindon taking in the ‘new’ Arda—Arda Remade.  It saddened him slightly that the world he knew was gone, drowned by the great waters of the sea.  Still, this world was equally beautiful.  Also, he would not stumble across landmarks and places that would bring back memories of people long gone.  Pink lips curled into a small smile.  He was sent back to protect the line of his former king, the grandson of Idril…did Glorfindel really think that the sight of Elrond would not bring back haunting memories?

 

He pushed that from his mind as he and the small escort afforded him by Círdan entered the courtyard.  He was here to fulfill his duty.  His chest constricted as he looked to the landing.  There was no doubt which Noldo was Idril’s heir.  Elrond was beautiful, tall and dark, with gray eyes and pale skin.  While built a bit more like an Adan, he held the grace of the Eldar.  It nearly brought tears to the remade warrior’s eyes.  Glorfindel dismounted and approached the waiting elves.

 

He placed his hand to his heart and bowed low to Gil-galad, offering a greeting to his host.  The high king inclined his head and welcomed so esteemed a guest to his palace but his words were hollow and his eyes held no warmth. Not really listening to the king’s words, Glorfindel turned and addressed Elrond.

 

“It is you I have been commanded to serve and protect.”  He drew his great sword and resting it across his palms, he offered it to Elrond.

 

Elrond looked about more than a little confused and embarrassed.  Surely Lord Glorfindel knew who was High King of the Noldo.  It was to Gil-galad the warrior should be pledging his allegiance.  The High King did not appear at all pleased with this development either.  “You are mistaken,” Elrond stammered.  “It is the King you serve as do I.”

 

Glorfindel stood, his sword still offered to the peredhel.  “No, Lord Námo was most clear as to his instructions.  I am to serve and protect the line of Idril, Earendel’s son.  The princess’ light shines within you Elrond Half-elven; I will follow you.”

 

The elves gathered in the courtyard were dumbfounded.  Here was the mighty Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Elda from beyond the Halls of Mandos and the Great Sea.  Here was the champion of the people, pledging his fealty to the peredhel herald of the High King. 

 

Whispers began to spread like wild fire; but before things could get more uncomfortable, a stately elf clad in pristine black and silver robes stepped forward.  “Perhaps this is best continued indoors.  I am certain Lord Glorfindel could use a bit of refreshments after his long journey.”

 

Gil-galad nodded curtly, turned in a flourish of robes and ascended the steps.  Elrond hastened after him.  “Come, Hîr nin,” Erestor said calmly to Glorfindel, a reassuring smile on his lips.  Glorfindel lost himself in the rich brown eyes that shown with kindness and wisdom.  The remade ellon had seen many beautiful beings in his life, he himself was counted among them, but this elf, this striking elf with hair as black as the moonless night, rivaled even Námo in beauty—and that said a lot for Glorfindel thought Námo the most fair of all Ilúvatar’s creations.  With something akin to awe, the returned warrior followed Erestor into the palace.


	2. Catching Snowflakes

Prompt:  Catching snowflakes in a blizzard (thanks blueslashicons!)

 

Erestor looked across the courtyard.  The snow was falling heavily, making it nearly impossible to see across the courtyard!  At least the wind had died down for the time being.  Now where was that elf?  A council, which Glorfindel had been specifically asked to attend, was about to begin and the Captain was nowhere to be seen.  The Noldo sighed.  While the remade warrior’s glow and positive aura was enthralling, his lack of…Erestor spotted his quarry.

 

“Lord Glorfindel!” he called from the balcony rail.  “What are you doing?  Counsel is about to begin!”

 

The blond looked up, tongue still handing out, and smiled.  “I am well aware of the time, Lord Councilor!” he called back.  “But nothing tastes as good as the first flakes of winter.”  As if to prove his point, Glorfindel stuck his tongue out again and tilted his head to the sky. A large, fluffy flake kissed the tip and melted.  “You should try it Erestor.”

 

Erestor looked at the grown elf, acting like an elfling, with a scowl.  “I have no time for such nonsense.  Now please come along.  Things with the High King are stained enough.”  Like a parent watching an errant child who has been called to supper, the brooding advisor stood, arms crossed.

 

Glorfindel captured one last snowflake before ducking into the covered walkway.  Erestor really needed to loosen up a bit, the Lord of the Golden Flower thought.  The elf was the most beautiful in Imladris yet his beauty was dampened by aloof attitude and barbed tongue.  He wondered if Erestor still stood on the balcony, watching, waiting, making sure the Captain did not dawdle; he peered out from the causeway, hidden by a pillar and smiled.  Perhaps there was hope after all.

 

Erestor waited until Glorfindel was back on track before turning to enter the council chamber.  Hesitating, he looked about assuring himself that there were none to see.  Feeling completely secure that he was alone, the stoic elf stuck out his tongue and caught an unsuspecting snowflake.  He could not stop the smile that grace his fair face as the sudden cold droplet warmed on his tongue.  His heart fluttered momentarily as he remembered the look of pure joy on Glorfindel’s face as he tasted what was most likely the first snowflake since his return.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Council dragged on into the late afternoon and the snow began to fall in earnest.  Large heavy flakes quickly blanketed the yard.  Points were argued, compromises made and the storm ragged.  Glorfindel was brilliant in his tactical solutions and even Gil-galad could not dispute that.  Erestor’s eloquence enabled him to get matters handled while making others think it was their idea in the first place; a very good skill to have when dealing with a self centered and arrogant elf like Gil-galad. 

 

This was the first really big meeting Glorfindel had been asked to sit in on since his arrival and Erestor was quite impressed.  It seemed that the Elda could balance fun with duty.  The advisor caught himself, on a number of occasions, watching the handsome ellon.  Erestor thought Glorfindel beautiful beyond words.  The usually smooth tongued elf often found words escaping him when he was in Glorfindel’s company.  As the blond laid out his best strategy to the reluctant High King, Erestor could not stop the thought that flitted into his mind…what would it have been like to be that snowflake melted by the warrior’s hot tongue?


	3. Racing Horses

Prompt:  A Horse Race (thanks sbyte!)

Asfaloth was a fine stallion.  The horse had been a gift from Círdan, but many wondered if the horse had not really come from Oromë. The creature had unusual stamina and was fearless.  He was the perfect steed for one as mighty as Glorfindel.  The Elda looked resplendent on his mount and evil fled when he rode toward them; he was as a Vala.

 

Erestor continued to brush his mare.  She nickered and threw her head about.  She was still young and spirited.  Erestor chuckled.  “See something of interest?” he asked her softly.  The horse tossed her head again and stomped at the ground, anxious to be out in the pasture with the fine white stallion.  “You and every other mare here, little one.” Erestor continued softly, “Desired by all--like his rider.”  The mare nudged the elf with her head as if to say, ‘Like you?’    Erestor finished her grooming and lead her out of the stables.

 

Glorfindel approached his friend.  “She seems high strung today.  Perhaps you should take her for a hard ride.”  He smiled his dashing smile.

 

Erestor looked at the blond and his heart skipped a beat.  They had become friends over the centuries but deep inside, the advisor always wished it were more.  However, like the fine white stallion, the Elda was desired by so many; all more attractive and deserving than Erestor.  “It is a pleasant day for a ride.  What do you say, girl?”  Erestor addressed his horse.  She however was too busy parading before the stallion to pay attention to the elf.  She flipped her tail and tossed her mane.  Erestor sighed but mounted anyway.  “Come on; let’s run some of that energy out of you.”  The mare however had other ideas and none included leaving Aslof’s presence.

 

“It seems she needs some encouragement,” Glorfindel said with a laugh.  “What say you to a little race, mellon nin?”  Aslof pawed the ground.  He liked that idea; let’s see what the mare was made of.

 

Erestor looked at the Elda.  “It would hardly be a race.  Your stallion can easily out run my mare.”

 

“I am not so sure he wants to.  It would be good for them and perhaps we could put a little wager on the table for ourselves?”

 

The advisor’s heart beat quickened and he struggle to respond calmly.  “What did you have in mind?” 

 

“We ride to the river and back.  Winner claims a boon of his…or her,” the Elda amended when Erestor’s mare snorted, “choosing.” 

 

There was something unreadable in the warrior’s eye, but it made Erestor’s heart flutter and his member stir.  He shifted on the horse. “Very well, to the river and back.”  Without waiting for a response, Erestor nudged his mare who took off like the wind, leaving a surprised Aslof in her wake.

 

Glorfindel laughed and patted the stallion’s neck.  “What do you think, friend?  Are they not a magnificent sight?”  Alsof shook his mane in agreement.  Erestor seemed so free.  His unbound hair flew in dark waves behind him.  He had shed his robes and now wore snug leggings and a lightweight tunic.  Glorfindel imagined the relaxed brow and dazzling smile that surely graced the beautiful face.  His blood began to race and desire for the handsome Noldo erupted.  He had fancied Erestor for decades, but feared destroying their friendship.  Now, however, it was hard to hide his feelings.  So, with new resolve to breech the matter at the conclusion of the race, the remade warrior let Aslof loose.  The mighty steed bolted forward in pursuit of his prize.  The stallion understood the winner got something; he knew what he wanted.  He hoped his rider would follow his lead.

 

~~~~

There never was a doubt who would win, but it felt wonderful to ride like the wind nonetheless.  The elves dismounted and walked the horses into the stable.

 

“Congratulations Aslof!” Erestor said to the stallion.  The stallion nickered then returned his attention to the gray mare.  If the elves would only afford them some privacy, Aslof would claim his boon.

 

“What about me?”  Glorfindel said with a mock pout.

 

“What about you?  The horse won the race.  It is not like you had anything to do with it.”  Erestor countered coyly.

 

Glorfindel stepped close to his long time friend, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off the other’s body.  “I am part of the winning team and therefore entitled to a boon, my dear councilor.”

 

Erestor shivered as the Elda’s breath caressed his skin.  He felt his knees go weak as Glorfindel’s powerful form overshadowed him. Could his wildest fantasy actually come to pass?   Would he finally know what it felt like to be kissed by his one desire?  The Noldo thought he would swoon.

 

The two stood but a breath apart for what seemed like an eternity.  Neither saying anything.  Finally Erestor broke the silence. “What would you ask for your boon?” he whispered.

 

Erestor was so close, so welcoming, and so desirable.  All Imladris’ captain had to do was lean down a bit and capture the warm, soft ruby lips.  But, for the first time in either of his lives, Glorfindel’s courage failed him.  Stepping back from the slightly shorter elf, he cleared this throat…

 

Erestor’s heart thundered in his chest as Glorfindel moved away.  His hope faltered and a pain filled his chest as he heard Glorfindel’s strained voice name the boon.  Schooling his features, the Chief advisor responded, “Very well, I will report to the weapons room at first light.  You will have your inventory before sunset.”  With a swirl of his unbound hair, Erestor strode purposefully from the courtyard.

 

From their place in Aslof’s stall, the two horses shook their heads and snorted at Glorfindel as if to say, “What were you thinking?”


	4. Begetting Plans

Prompt:  Planning Elrond’s Begetting day (thanks Faramirhaldir!)  
  


“Sorry I am late,” Glorfindel said as he quietly entered Erestor’s room.  “Patrol was late returning and I smelled of horse.  I thought you would prefer I bathe.”

 

The Noldo did not move from his place before the fire, merely held up a goblet of wine as a way of greeting. “That was most thoughtful of you, mellon nin.  Help yourself to a glass and join me.” 

 

Glorfindel did has he was bid, and then moved to the sitting area.  His breath hitched as he saw Erestor, reclining on pillows before the fire.  He wore loose, black sleeping pants and a matching robe, loosely tied.  The firelight cast a golden light upon his skin and hair.  At that moment, the Elda knew his heart was no longer his own; Erestor was now its unsuspecting keeper.  Glorfindel took a seat among the pillows.

 

Erestor finally looked at the Captain and smiled.  Glorfindel looked so handsome, his skin aglow from his recent bath, golden locks beginning to curl as they dried.  The advisor thought the dark blue tunic the blond wore really accented his overall coloring well and clung to the muscled torso in all the right places.  Erestor smiled again.  Everything Glorfindel wore looked good on him!  The warrior could wear orc armor and look good.

 

“What?” Glorfindel asked as he saw a rather wistful smile on the advisor’s face.

 

That brought Erestor back to the present.  “Oh, um, nothing.  I am just excited about all this.”  He took a long, sensual sip from his glass.  There was no reason that so radiant a being as Glorfindel would settle for just an average Noldo, his mind whispered.

 

Feeling something changed in the air and Glorfindel, noticing the silence dragging on, finally spoke up.  “So, what is this news?  It has been nagging at me all day.”

 

“The final piece to our plan is in place.  This will be a begetting day Elrond will never forget.”

 

“You don’t mean…” Glorfindel clapped his hands together.  The two friends had been hard at work planning the perfect surprise 3,500th begetting day celebration for Elrond.  They had initially thought to have a large gala with guests from all over, but then thought better of it.  Elrond had just hosted the midsummer gathering, so most would not want to return so quickly.  No -- Erestor, always the plotter, came up with a much better idea.  While the whole of Imladris would celebrate their Lord’s begetting day with the customary dinner, Glorfindel and Erestor planned a more personal surprise. 

 

“Erestor, I could kiss you!” the blond blurted out. 

Erestor blushed as a stunned silence followed. 

Realizing what he had said and fearing Erestor’s reaction, Glorfindel began to stumble over an apology.  He was saved by a knock at the door. 

 

Erestor quickly moved from the awkward situation to answer his door.

 

“Forgive the intrusion, Hîr nin,” a junior advisor said with a sheepish look.  “I did not know you were…um…that is…I saw a light in your window and…” Melpomaen stammered as he took in the Chief Counselor of Imladris’ state of undress and whom it was he entertained.  “Umm…Captain,” he said with a slight bow to Glorfindel.  So the rumors were true; Lord Glorfindel and Lord Erestor were keeping “company”.  The clearing of a throat and cold glare brought the younger elf up short.  “Oh, yes…as I was saying, a contingent from Lórien has arrived rather unexpectedly.  I saw your light and thought it best to come here as Lord Elrond retired some time ago and his room is dark.  I thought -- that is I didn’t think…”

 

Erestor took pity on the blathering elf and pulled him into the room.  “You did the right thing coming to me.  No one is to know anyone from Lórien is here.  Do I make myself clear?”  He pinned Melpomaen with his signature stare.  “No one.”

 

“Oh, yes, hîr nin.  But what of Lord Elrond?  Surely he will be cross if…”

 

“It is part of his begetting day surprise.  It will be spoilt if he knows anything about this.  Melpomaen, it is so very important that you say absolutely nothing to anyone about anything you see or hear this night.”

 

Glorfindel joined them by the door.  “Elrond’s begetting is still two days away.  Surely you do not plan on hiding them till then.”

 

“I most certainly do,” Erestor stated with a calculating smile.  “With the help of you two.”

 

Melpomaen’s eyes bugged as he was suddenly included in whatever plan the advisor had concocted.  He hoped this surprise was worth the trouble he would be in if Lord Elrond ever found out about his involvement.

 

“Now, this is what we need to do,” Erestor began.  Within a quarter of an hour, the Lothlórien horses were let loose in the pasture, as they could not remain in the barn.  The Lórien guardians were sequestered in the barracks; Glorfindel’s own guards sworn to secrecy by their warriors’ oath. Melpomaen quickly prepared a guest room in one of the unused wings.  It was here that Erestor and Glorfindel stood with their ‘gift’ for Lord Elrond.  Melpomean stood awestruck near the door.

 

“Lady Celebrían, we are most honored that you accepted our invitation,”  Erestor said with a bow as the beautiful elleth lowered the hood of her hunting cloak.

 

“It is my pleasure, I assure you,” she said with a coy smile.


	5. Beams and Braids

Prompt:  Braiding of hair (thanks to Ebbingnight)

He was frustrated.  He hurt and he was embarrassed.  Timber!  A simple piece of timber and he was as helpless as a kitten.  Glorfindel growled at his reflection…

                  

 

He had been searching for a young stallion that broke out of its stall early this morning.  He found the beast munching on old hay in an ancient paddock from the time Imladris was first founded.  The building has been built in haste and intended only as a temporary shelter; it should have been brought down centuries ago.  The attempts to rope the horse caused it to buck.  Glorfindel managed to dodge the deadly hooves, which hit a support beam with a thundering crack.  The horse bolted from the small building, but the warrior was not so lucky and was caught in the shoulder by a heavy cross bream.  The freak accident left him pinned to the floor, the beam firmly crushing his right shoulder.  After the shock wore off and with a strength born of Valinor, the Vanya managed to free himself from the massive piece of wood.

 

 

Staggering from the ruins, Glorfindel mounted his horse and made his way back to the main house, forgetting the stallion for the moment.  Putting on the best “happy, everything is fine” face, he made his way to his chambers.  He asked a passing elleth to fetch a healer, discretely.  He assured her he was fine, but needed a minor injury tended and he did not want to bother Lord Elrond on his begetting day.  Entering his chamber, Glorfindel grimaced as he pulled his shirt off, sending white-hot shards of pain through the injured shoulder.  He sat on the edge of his bed and waited for the healer.  A gentle knock alerted him and he all but pulled the your healer into his chamber.

 

“Hir nin, you have been injured?” the healer asked with disbelief coloring his voice.  Glorfindel sighed and retold his story. 

 

 

“It is not broken, but dislocated and badly bruised.  It should heal quickly,” the healer stated as a pop and a dwarven curse filled the room, “unfortunately, I must guarantee you do not move the joint until it can heal.  If you will promise to wear a sling for the next two days, I will not bind the shoulder.  If, however, I see you using that arm for anything I will bind it but good for the next two weeks.” 

 

 

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow but the healer merely countered the action as if to say, ‘just watch me.” 

 

 

“Very well, I will abide by your rules.  The arm will be in a sling and I will not use it for two days.”

 

 

“If you are in pain I can leave…”

 

 

Glorfindel cut the healer short.  “The pain is not so bad so unless you have a tonic for a bruised ego, there nothing else I require.”  The healer gave a knowing smile and patted the warrior on his good shoulder leaving as quietly as he had come.

 

 

The sling was plain, dull, boring, and not what he wanted to be seen wearing at Elrond’s begetting day feast.  Tossing it on the bed next to his dress robes, the Elda moved to the bathing chambers.  He was running late so it would have to be a quick bath.  Stepping into the warm water, the warrior sighed and sunk beneath the surface.  The extent of his injury became clear when he raised his arms to wash his hair.  An involuntary gasp left his ruby lips as pain coursed through his shoulder.  After an awkward washing, Glorfindel left the water to struggle with the equally difficult task of drying off.  Finally immerging from the bathroom, the re-made elf looked at his dress robes and again swore.  Ignoring that dilemma for the moment, he sat down at his mirror.  Picking up his comb, he realized there was no way he could comb his unruly mane with his injured arm and while he could wield a sword with either hand, a comb was completely different.  He sighed and let his head drop to the dressing table.  Evening was fast approaching and he was stuck…completely and utterly stuck, wrapped in a towel with dripping locks that were everywhere and no hope in sight.  What was he to do?

 

 

…Glorfindel growled at his reflection.  Perhaps he should just let his hair hang loose and choose simple robes that did not require buttoning (of course, he could not pull them over his head either).  He growled again.  That was not what he wanted to do!  He had wanted to look his best; wanted Erestor--

 

Erestor!  The raven-haired elf and dear friend popped to mind as if Irmo himself had whispered the name.  Perhaps Erestor would help him!  But Erestor would be busy getting things ready for the feast and their little birthday surprise.  Surely he would be getting ready himself.  He would not have time to help Glorfindel; would he?  Another minute passed.  Then pushing down his growing embarrassment, Glorfindel picked up his comb, draped his dress robes over his injured arm (for that was the most it could do), grabbed the offending sling and left his chamber.

 

 

He stood outside the Chief Counselor of Imladris’ rooms.  He knocked gently as his pulse quickened.  What would Erestor think to find Glorfindel in such a disheveled state? 

 

 

“By the stars Glorfindel!” the raven-haired elf gasped as he opened the door seeing the bare-chested, towel-wrapped elf in the hall. “What…” he was at a loss of words.

 

 

“Erestor, please, mellon nin, I need your assistance.”  There was a hint of desperation in the tall elf’s words.  Erestor moved aside, silently granting entrance.  Glorfindel hurried in.  “I am sorry to bother you, I know you are very busy, but I have a problem.  I injured my shoulder and find myself unable to do even the simplest tasks.”  He dropped his robes on a nearby chair before dropping into another. He looked up pleadingly.  “I cannot even comb my hair, let alone braid it.  I would just tie it back if I could.”

 

 

Erestor looked at the one elf in all Arda that made his heart flutter.  The majestic being looked so forlorn.  The counselor would do anything to help Glorfindel, anything to see a smile grace the fair features.  Moving to his friend’s side he spoke, “Come to the fire and I will comb that mane of yours and get it braided.”

 

 

“That is not necessary Erestor.  If you can just get it tied…”

 

 

“Nonsense mellon nin,” the Counselor interrupted, “We will get it done right.  There is time yet before the feast.  Do not worry.”  With that, he led his charge to the rug near the fire and sitting on a low stool, Erestor began to gently comb the thick golden tresses.

 

 

Glorfindel closed his eyes at the sensation; it had been literally a lifetime since anyone did this for him.  Erestor’s touch was gentle; yet firm enough to work through the tangles.  A sigh escaped his lips and he let his head fall forward; unfortunately that pulled the shoulder and the sigh quickly turned to a grasp. 

 

 

Erestor stilled his actions and quickly apologized, “I am sorry I did not mean…”

 

 

“Peace, mellon nin, ‘twas not you.  Your touch is divine and lulled me nearly to sleep.  But you waste too much time on me.  It is fine,” Glorfindel protested.

 

 

The raven-haired elf ran his fingers through the silken mass, shivering at the feel of liquid gold flowing across his delicate fingertips. This was the most intimate he had been with Glorfindel and it was enough to awaken the fantasies lurking just beyond his rational mind.  Fearing his awakening body would betray him, he stood and moved to the bathroom.  “Rest there and let the fire dry your hair a bit.  I will bathe and then we will finish getting ready.”  The councilor vanished from sight.

 

 

The re-made warrior sighed again.  That was the most wonderful sensation.  Long had he desired more intimate contact with the beautiful advisor; too bad it was nothing more than a friend helping another with a difficult problem.  ‘It is the most you will get,’ a little voice whispered, ‘enjoy it now.’

 

 

Erestor did not dally in the bath this night.  He needed to get back to Glorfindel.  The warrior seemed so lost, almost uncertain.  While bathing, Erestor devised a little plan that he hoped would lift the warrior’s mood.  Emerging from the bathroom garbed in a soft robe, Erestor returned to the fireside.   Glorfindel had to turn from the waist to see his friend and his breath hitched.  Skin glowing fresh and clean, raven hair hanging like rivers ink over the light robe, just a hint of flesh showing at the collar and lean calves bared to his cerulean eyes caused Glorfindel to flush.  He turned back to the fire quickly, hoping the hunger had gone unnoticed.  And, it had for Erestor refused to see that so wonderful an elf would desire him.

 

 

Erestor quickly combed the golden locks once more before setting to work on the braids.  His hands moved swiftly though Glorfindel could barely feel them.  Never once did it pull, ever gentle and the warrior again relaxed into his surroundings.  Erestor chatted idly with his friend, keeping the mood light.  When at last he sat back to admire his work; he hoped he did them right.  And, that Glorfindel would like them.

 

 

“Come, let us get you dressed.” The Chief Advisor said as he stood and offered a hand to Glorfindel.  The warrior took it and stood gracefully.  For one brief moment Erestor hesitated, looking at their joined hands.

 

 

“Erestor…” Glorfindel all but whispered. 

 

 

The advisor quickly moved to pickup Glorfindel’s robes.  He looked at the sling made of bland white linen.  “We should be able to do this with minimal pain if we work together.”  He beckoned his friend over.  The warrior complied.  After a few attempts, it was decided that there was no way Glorfindel’s under-robe would go on and worse off later with out extreme pain.  Instead, Erestor brought forth a lovely shirt with frog clasps that had been an ill fitting gift; it fit Glorfindel well and would take the place of his under garment.  Next cam the beautiful midnight blue dress robe and the golden sash, complete with a beautiful Gondolien dagger.  Erestor looked at the elf lord in awe.  Glorfindel was beyond beautiful…he was resplendent!

 

 

“Erestor…” the warrior began again.  And again he was cut off.

 

 

“That sling will not do,” Erestor said while rummaging through a drawer.  “Ah, this should work.”  He produced a beautiful light blue sash, embroidered with, ironically, small golden flowers.  He attached the makeshift sling and helped Glorfindel get settled.  “Perfect,” Erestor announced.

 

 

Glorfindel looked down at his appearance and then scanned the room.  “Mirror?” he inquired.

 

 

Erestor blushed.  “I am afraid I do not have one.  I never felt the need.”  The re-made warrior looked at his closest friend in a new light. Erestor always looks meticulous, radiant even and he was known for his sense of style—all done with out mirrors.  Glorfindel felt his heart melt; he had to find away to connect with Erestor on a deeper level, and intimate level.

 

 

Realizing that Erestor had begun to tend to his own hair, Glorfindel spoke up apologetically, “I wish I could return the favor, mellon nin. Perhaps another time?”

 

 

Erestor smiled shyly.  “Another time,” he replied, a beautiful blush coloring his cheeks.  Erestor stepped back into the bathroom and soon immerged. 

 

 

Glorfindel forgot to breathe as the raven-haired elf emerged dressed in a black dress robe trimmed in silver and cinched closed at the waist with a stunning silver clasp.  The delicate silver gray under-robe, visible down the front, was a change from the solid work robes Erestor usually wore.  His hair was simply pulled back at the temples and held by a jeweled clip.  Never had Glorfindel seen a more stunning elf and he suddenly did not want to share this vision with anyone else.  Unfortunately it was late and they had a begetting celebration to attend. 

 

The pair left Erestor’s chambers and headed to the Great Hall.  The advisor excused himself just before entering, as he wanted to check with the kitchens one last time.  Glorfindel thanked his friend again and proceeded into the Hall.  As he entered, he passed a decorative mirror.  He gasped as he took in the reflection.  Staring back at him with his own blue eyes was the image of a Lord long past…Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, the dress robes and dagger and his braids--done just as they had been by his father a lifetime before.


	6. How Did You Know?

Prompt:  A chess game

“How did you know,” Glorfindel asked his companion.  He stared intently at Erestor.  For his part, Erestor remained hunched over the chessboard, analyzing the effect of his potential move. 

 

Silence ensued and the re-made warrior sat back to wait.  His mind drifted to his former lifetime.  Chess was not a game played by warriors; it was the entertainment of scholars.  Although the game required a great deal of strategy, the pieces could only move certain ways and that meant that your opponent could easily anticipate the consequences of any given move.  That is not how combat really worked!  Chess did not serve a purpose in the practical world!  As such, Glorfindel had never bothered to pursue it.  In this life, however, he was wise enough to admit there was merit to the game.  He had watched Elrond and Erestor locked in a single game for hours, enjoying a cup of wine and camaraderie.  He often sat with them, reading a book or gazing at the stars.  It was quiet and relaxing and…well rather intimate.  It was far less bawdy than the “warrior’s den” and more quiet than the Hall of Fire.  Therefore, Glorfindel finally asked the Lords to teach him chess.  The games were quick and embarrassing at first; but in time, Glorfindel wrapped his ‘here and now’ reality driven warrior’s mind around the finer points of looking not just one move but also several moves a head.  He discovered a real love for the game!

 

“You will have to be more specific in you question mellon nin…Glorfindel?  Findel!?” 

 

Glorfindel flinched back to the present.  “Forgive me, what?” 

 

Erestor sat back and looked at his long-time friend.  “I said it is your move and you will have to be more specific in your question.  I know a lot; most of it learned through various methods.”  Glorfindel stared oddly at the raven-haired advisor.  Erestor sighed.  “I moved from here to here and you asked me ‘how did I know?’  Know what?”

 

Blue eyes scanned the board quickly before the warrior picked his knight and moved it.  “My braids, Erestor.  The other night at Elrond’s begetting celebration.  How did you know about the braids of my house?  That is not something you would find in a book, at least not that I am aware.  And I am certain I have never worn them before as someone has to do them for me.”

 

“Check mate,” Erestor stated as he moved his queen to take the knight.  He sat back, took a long drink of wine and closed his eyes.  A memory flashed before him…

 

*Flashback*

He watched from the platform, just behind Gil Galad as the party from the Havens approached.  An elf of great stature rode at the front, garbed in a beautiful golden breastplate and a deep blue cloak embroidered with golden flowers that glistened in the sun light.  The elf wore no helm, his golden hair gleaming as bright cerulean eyes smiled at the world as he passed.  Erestor forgot to breathe, so beautiful was this vision approaching.  The elf dismounted and kneeled before Elrond, head bowed.  It was then that Erestor saw the beautiful braid work in the re-made warrior’s hair.  Tiny braids across the top and side pulled the hair from the noble face and ears but allowed it to hang long in the back.  The advisor now understood the sketches and rare portraits of the Elder Lords.  It seemed each had their own style; this must be the design of the House of the Golden Flower…

*End flashback*

 

Erestor opened his eyes slowly and looked at Glorfindel with such emotion that it took the other by surprise.  Pink lips turned to a gentle smile as Erestor softly replied,

 

“You wore them the first day I saw you.”


	7. Over Dinner

Prompt:  Having Dinner(thanks Inwe_seralonde!)

 

 

The Imladrian elves were sitting in a small private dining room located near the center trunk of the great malorn.  Glorfindel and Erestor had accompanied Celeborn’s daughter back from her surprise visit to Imladris.  Now, rested and refreshed, the two old friends enjoyed a fine meal.

 

“I am not sure why Elrond insisted I join the escort.  I doubt my feeble skills with a sword would do much to protect Lady Celebrian.” Erestor stabbed at his roast pheasant.  Glorfindel sat in silence across the table from the raven-haired advisor.  “When I tried to question him about it he…Glorfindel?  Is the meal not to your liking?”  Erestor asked, finally looking at his companion’s untouched plate.

 

“I asked you join the escort.”  The captain said, trying to steady his breathing.

 

“You?  Why?”

 

“We need to talk Erestor.”  Glorfindel answered as calmly as he could.

 

“Could we not talk in Imladris?”

 

“No.”  Glorfindel took a long drink from his wine.  Erestor finally put his fork down and sat back in his chair, giving the blond his complete attention.  Taking a deep breath the remade warrior continued.  “You know there is talk about us?”

 

Erestor shook his head, question in his eyes.

 

“I do not know for how long, but I know the rumors started in earnest while we planned Elrond’s begetting surprise.  It must have been all the private meetings, my sneaking to your room at night.”

 

“Wait,” Erestor interrupted, “are you saying there are ‘rumor’ rumors?  Others think we are…we…”  Erestor could not bring himself to say the words he so wished were true.  Glorfindel only nodded.  Great!  Imladris thought the pair were intimate but nothing could be farther from the truth—much to Erestor’s disappointment.  “Well, I will make certain to take care of that when we return,” the advisor said with resolve.  “I apologize for any trouble such foolish whispers may have cause you.”  He began to stab at his food again but with less pleasure.

 

“They have caused no trouble, Erestor, only thought on my part.”

 

“Thought?”

 

“Aye, thought.  We have been friends for centuries.  These ‘whispers’ as you call them have made me wonder if perhaps people see something we do not.  I would be lying if I said I did not find you attractive; you are by far the most striking elf I have seen in either of my lives.”  The golden lord silenced Erestor’s objections.  “You are quick witted, smart, loyal and compassionate.  You are a much desired elf whether you believe it or not.”

 

“Glorfindel, you flatter me.  However, I am nothing special.  I am just a Noldo.  It is you who is remarkable.  It amazes me that you have not found your mate yet.  I can think of no elf that would deny you and many in Imladris desire your attention.”

 

“No elf?”  Glorfindel felt a ray of hope break through the tense air.

 

“None that I can think of.  And I assure you that as soon as we get back I will make certain no one thinks us romantically involved.”

 

“What if I do not want that?”

 

The advisor’s sharp mind failed him and he tilted his head, brows furrowing in confusion.  “Do not want what?” he asked.

 

Glorfindel’s rich laughter filled the small dining room.  He got up from his chair and moved to kneel next to Erestor’s chair.  He hesitantly reached out and stroked the porcelain cheek.  “What if I do not want you to stop the rumors?  What if I said I wanted them to be true?  Erestor, my feelings for you have deepened.  I think the same might be true for you.  I want to explore those feelings.” Glorfindel clasped the advisor’s hands and look into the rich dark brown eyes, hoping the truth of his words shown through his bright blue ones.

 

Erestor’s heart raced and his hands trembled.  He found it impossible to keep eye contact with those beautiful blue orbs that often stole into his dreams.  For the first time in his life, he was speechless.  His fëa screamed out to accept Glorfindel and explore his feelings, his heart seconded the idea but his mind…his damned rational, calculating, emotionless mind spoke first.  “Glorfindel, I do not know what to say.  We are friends, first and foremost and that will never change, but…us, as more, I do not know.  We are so different.  You are full of life and energy, radiant like the sun.  You will quickly grow tired of my placidness and simplicity.” 

 

“Saes.”  The warrior was not beyond pleading.  He knew they belonged together.  That is why he asked Elrond to send Erestor with Celebrian’s escort.  Here in Lothlórien there was nowhere for the elusive elf to run, no work behind which to hide. 

 

Erestor looked at the Valar honest truth right before him.  This is what he wanted and here in the Golden Wood they could learn more about their relationship without the whispers, the rumors.  If it did not work out there would not be the curious stares, coworkers walking on eggshells; no one need know the relationship failed.  Maybe this was the right time.  He needed to think.

 

“I still do not know what to say.  I never expected that you would find me desirable in that way.  Please, I am not saying no.  But I need time to think.”  Erestor stood, pulling Glorfindel up with him.  “Give me a few days.”

 

“I will give you as much time as you need.  When you are ready to address this, admit this, I will be there.”  The massive warrior leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on the slighter elf’s brow.  Then he left, giving Erestor the space he needed.

 

They had little contact over the next few weeks and Glorfindel all but gave up hope.  Erestor thought about it, dreamed about it and finally, weeks later, sent a message to Glorfindel.


	8. Love Conquers All

Prompt:  Climbing a tree(thanks perkyandproud!)

 

 

Erestor was angry—and hurt.  He thought Glorfindel truly wanted a relationship with him.  The advisor had been so taken by surprise he had faltered and asked for time to think.  Two weeks had passed since that night and Glorfindel seemed to have lost interest in Erestor. The warrior spent his time with the guardians, especially the handsome Marchwarden.  Erestor felt his chest tighten as he looked out across the tops of the great Malorn trees.  Perhaps he was being foolish.  They had become friends, but why would the golden lord, so full of new life, want with a jaded old elf who had to “think” about a relationship opportunity with such a stunning elf.  What must the Elda think!   He had sent the Imladris Captain a note earlier in the day, asking they meet.  Erestor had then arranged a picnic dinner and commandeered this very secluded talan for the night.  He had not asked for a response, he had not thought he needed one.  Now he began to grow angry with himself for so foolishly assuming.  Of course Glorfindel would not have waited —why should he!  The Noldo tugged at his tunic.

 

“Fine,” he thought while fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, “I have lived this long without companionship; I do not need him or anyone else for that matter.”  Unfortunately neither his fëa nor his heart truly believed it.  Still, he had his dignity.  He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and took one last glance across the treetops.

 

At that moment a sound--his name--whispered in the candlelight, made him turn.  All anger and doubt fled as he looked at the pale, shaking form emerging from the ladder.  Glorfindel climbed through the opening, crawling onto the floor unable to stand.  He was panting and his beautiful golden mane clung to the perspiration on his forehead. 

 

Erestor rushed forward and slid to his knees.  He tried to see what injury his beloved sustained that would have left him in such a state. “Meleth,” he exclaimed, the endearment falling naturally from his lips, “what has happened?”

 

“Heights,” Glorfindel panted.  “I am afraid of heights—ever since I fell off the cliff I cannot stand heights.  Especially wide open ones. That is why my rooms are always on the ground floor, why my talan here is on a lower branch, near the trunk.  Forgive me.”  Glorfindel bowed his head, afraid to see the disgust in Erestor's eyes.  The mighty warrior and remade lord, brought low by a mere ladder climb. He had stood at the bottom for nearly two hours trying to get his nerves under control.  He had even thought to send Haldir in his stead to ask Erestor to meet Glorfindel elsewhere.  However, the Elda knew that Erestor had gone to great lengths and expense to arrange this meeting; he did not want to disappoint the elf who had captured his heart.  Yet, here he was, over three hours late, in such disarray, and admitting to so childish a fear.  Why would a strong, confident, fearless elf like Erestor now want with him?  The truth was out; Glorfindel of the Golden Flower was a coward.

 

Erestor wasted no more time and pulled his beloved warrior into a tight embrace, holding firm till the strong body trembled no more. “You have nothing for which to apologize.”  He whispered into a perfectly pointed ear.  “You should have sent word.  Come, let us move to more comfortable surroundings for you.”

 

There was no mock in the advisor’s words, no condemnation.  Glorfindel stole a look and became lost in the rich pools of the chocolate brown eyes.  Keeping eye contact he replied, “I wish to waste no more time and since I have no great desire to go down that ladder right now, I would rather we stayed put.  And I think I know the perfect way to keep my mind from dwelling on our present location.” With that he leaned in and claimed his first kiss of the night.

 

The chief councilor melted into the warm lips pressed against his and when he felt the questing tongue opened to meet it.  The kiss was gentle yet filled with desire.  When the need for air finally drove the would-be lovers apart, Erestor’s heart was in his throat.  Taking a deep breath he leaned forward and whispered into the Elda’s ear, “It might take more than just a kiss to keep you distracted.”  To emphasize his point, Erestor nipped the sensitive ear before claiming the ruby lips in a heated kiss full of promise.


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R!! If you are under 18, please leave it at the last chapter...it's a happy ending and you will not miss anything but smut you are too young to read. Adults, hope you enjoy!

Glorfindel lay in the predawn light and felt the gentle sway of the ship.  His mind mulled over all the things that had happened over the centuries, leading to love along the way.  Erestor stirred slightly and the golden lord tightened his grip.  Much had passed since the fateful climb up the ladder.  Darkness had nearly swept the land but Glorfindel had been able to stand strong thanks to the unfaltering love Erestor bestowed on him.  Many had been lost but their sacrifice had brought about the end of Sauron once and for all.  Glorfindel sighed.  That was all behind them now.  His duty complete, the Elda was finally going home for good—his mate at his side.

 

“Of what is it you think, meleth?” a sleepy voice asked as a naked body stretched and pressed against Glorfindel.

 

Glorfindel smiled and kissed Erestor’s ebony locks.  “Snowflakes and horse races, begetting days and dinners and trees that are just too damn tall.”

 

The Noldo chuckled and kissed a rosy nipple conveniently located near his lips.  Glorfindel sighed.  “Snowflakes?” Erestor asked, his hand tracing the warrior’s muscles.

 

“You probably do not remember this, but we had been called to a meeting on the first really big snow since my return.  Although you had always been kind to me, you seemed so formal, stoic almost.”  Glorfindel quickly continued before Erestor could comment.  “I was walking to the meeting, catching snowflakes on my tongue when you called to me from the balcony, telling me to hurry up.  I did, but not before I witnessed you sticking out that perfect pink tongue and catching a snowflake.”

 

Erestor sat up and looked at his mate wide-eyed.  “You saw that?” he asked in disbelief.

 

“I saw that and wished I was that lucky snowflake,” the blond said before pulling Erestor back down.

 

“Yes, well, I wanted to strangle you after the horse race…complete your weapon’s inventory!  You were supposed to ask for a kiss or better yet a night in my bed.”

 

Drawing soothing circles on the other’s back, Glorfindel answered, “Aye, I know but I was afraid you would deny me.”

 

“Could you not see the want in my eyes?  Sense my desire?  I thought I was as obvious as my mare!”

 

“Apparently my horse was more observant than I.”  Erestor bit Glorfindel’s nipple just enough to sting.  “Hey!  What was that for?” the Elda asked as Erestor quickly lapped at the raised flesh.

 

“For being a horse’s behind! This,” the advisor continued, beginning to kiss a path across the planes of Glorfindel’s chest, “If for finally coming around.”

 

“Coming around?” Glorfindel said as his heart began to thump and heat began to burn in his core.  “As I recall, it was you who needed time to think and then made me climb nearly 300 feet in the air to reach you.”

 

Erestor shifted to gain better access to Glorfindel’s body.  He began to nip and kiss and tease the golden warrior.  First on one nipple, then the other, gradually moving down the powerful torso.  A wet tongue delved into a quivering bellybutton.  “Then let me make all that up to you now,” Erestor whispered against the warm flesh.

 

Glorfindel sank into the soft bedding, relaxing with the rocking of the ship and the ministrations of his lover.  “You can try, but I do not know.  That talan was awfully high.”  His breath hitched, causing a sudden raise in his voice’s pitch as a warm, wet, demanding mouth claimed his member in one swift motion.  Talented fingers stroked and teased the tender flesh just below.  The Elda moaned with wanton desire.  It took so little for Erestor to simply have Glorfindel completely undone.

 

Stopping his torment for a moment, Erestor looked up and locked eyes with Glorfindel.  With a devious smile and a wicked twinkle in his eye, Erestor stuck out his tongue.  “You wanted so be the snow flake?  So be it.”  The remade elf groaned as the perfect pink tongue swiped across the tip of his now throbbing shaft.  Ever so gently and Glorfindel melted just like the snowflake.

 

The End


End file.
